


Solid Ground

by ottermo



Series: As Prompted [82]
Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post S3, i apologise to niska for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16814410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: Not everyone likes flying.





	Solid Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Some Nistrid fluff for the Recharge prompt "flight".

After what felt like an age, they were finally lifting off: the trundle of the aeroplane’s wheels came to an end and they left the runway in a sudden upward swoop that made Astrid’s stomach flip over. She gave a little gasp of delight - she loved the sensation of flying, no matter her destination. The very idea of taking to the sky appealed to some deep need in her, the joy of adventure, the feeling of being cut loose from it all. And this flight was even more special than most: it was the first time she was sharing it with Niska, having insisted that her love take a well-earned holiday after everything she’d been through with V.

Astrid took one long look out of the window, watching the city below them shrink until it looked more like a child’s toy set. Then she turned to her other side to share an excited grin with Niska.

Niska, however, could not see the offered smile. She was sitting very upright in her seat - that in itself was not so unusual, especially now that she didn’t need to hide the fact that she was a synth in public. More troubling than her rigid posture was the fact that her eyes were tight shut, as if she had been shut down.

“Niska, are you alright?”

No answer. It really did seem like she’d been powered down - but by whom? The flight attendant, in his last trip down the centre aisle, hadn’t said anything about synths needing to power down during takeoff. Tentatively Astrid reached for Niska’s chin, but a hand flew up and caught hold of her fingers before she could get there.

“No!” Niska barked.

Astrid tried to pull her hand away, appalled that Niska might misconstrue her intentions. “I’m sorry!” she said hastily, “I thought someone had switched you off. I’m sorry. You can let go, it’s only me.”

Niska did not loosen her vice-like grip on Astrid’s hand - neither did she open her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Niska? Are the flight instruments interfering with your head?”

Astrid had read somewhere that it could happen - for the same reason they used to make you turn off mobile phones during flights, back before most airlines had switched to synthetic pilots, and had to change their systems to ones that wouldn’t conflict with the synths’ programming. Niska was an older model than most, though. Maybe she needed some kind of upgrade?

“I’m fully operational,” said Niska, in a strange, stilted kind of way. It was the kind of phrase unconscious synths had used before Proliferation. Astrid’s mind flooded with terrible possibilities. Surely, surely the plane’s computers couldn’t affect Niska’s root code…

“Niska, you’re scaring me,” Astrid said frankly. _And you’re hurting my hand,_ she added silently, but she would rather Niska hold her hand than not, if something was wrong, so she decided not to complain about that yet.

Niska’s eyes snapped open. “There’s nothing to worry about,” she said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Before Astrid could ask again, she added, “I don’t know what’s wrong. I _am_ fully operational. By which I mean I can’t find a glitch in any of my systems, there’s no error report, but something is definitely… not right.”

Astrid managed to twist her hand so that she was holding Niska’s as well, rather than the one-way arrangement that had served to halt her movement. “Niska,” she said, gently, “Do you think…. is it possible you just don’t like flying very much?”

Niska turned to look at her. “What?”

“It’s pretty normal,” said Astrid, “Lots of people get a bit nervous during flights…”

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” Niska said quickly, turning away again. “That would be so illogical. Statistically speaking, air travel is one of the safest modes of transport. Our pilot has synthetic reflexes, and even in the event of a malfunction I or any other synth passenger could take over and land adequately enough to ensure our survival…”

Astrid raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything about logic, did I? Some people just don’t _like_ flying. It doesn’t agree with them.”

“Well, I’m not ‘some people’,” said Niska loftily. “Synths don’t have irrational fears. We’re too advanced.”

“Okay,” said Astrid, “Then let go of my hand.”

Niska was silent for a moment.

“I don’t want to,” she said.

Astrid resisted the urge to giggle. She bit hard on her lip. “Too advanced,” she repeated. “If you say so.”

Niska learned very slightly forward and turned her head so that she could see out of Astrid’s window. Astrid turned to look as well - the clouds looked so impressive from this height, so white and serene and beautiful…

She felt a jerk on her hand as Niska snapped back into her former position.

“Fine,” Niska said through a clenched jaw, her eyes firmly closed again. “Fine, maybe I am… maybe flying doesn’t _agree_ with me, are you happy now?”

“No,” said Astrid, honestly. “I’m not happy.” She reconsidered. “Well, maybe a _little_ happy that you admitted it. And maybe a little satisfied that I was right. And maybe a little thrilled that there’s a situation in which _I_ get to be the brave one…”

“I get it,” said Niska icily.

“My little rainbow,” said Astrid fondly. “It will be worth it once we get there.”

Later, stretched out next to Astrid on a beach of perfect white sand, Niska had to grudgingly agree that the destination had been worth the unpleasantness of the journey. Not that she would admit that out _loud_ , of course… but the beauty of her surroundings and her companion had lifted her mood considerably. She would never take solid ground for granted again, she vowed.

Now that she had a clearer head, and had been reminded of certain physical sensations that she _did_ enjoy, Niska could perhaps accept that it would make sense for there to also be physical sensations she did _not_ enjoy, and that flying was, for whatever unfounded reason, one of them.

It was a pity that something Astrid so clearly relished should fall so heavily on the opposite side of Niska’s preferential register, but it wasn’t as if it was their only difference. They had overcome all the others. Astrid had stuck by her through the entire ordeal with V, through dark periods of that struggle when even Niska’s own family had feared her enough to stay back. Astrid had never wavered. Not even when Niska had wanted her to, had begged her to keep a safer distance. Astrid had stayed.

“You were wrong about one thing,” Niska said quietly, twining her fingers through Astrid’s hair where it lay on the sand between them.

Astrid turned her head to look at her, frowning a little. “Hmm?”

“You’re always the brave one,” Niska said. “Not just when we’re flying.”

“If only that were true, I’d worry so much less,” said Astrid, smiling wistfully.

“You worry, but you stay. That’s what makes it brave.”

She could see that Astrid wasn’t convinced, but Niska didn’t need her agreement to make it any more true. She reached for Astrid’s hand and closed her eyes, this time in contentment rather than fear. Some things were worth the fear of falling, she thought. Some things were more solid than the ground itself.


End file.
